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Kicking my heels off, I yank my mask from my face and toss it to the side. The room is dark but through the pulsating red lights, I see a door in the back corner. Lifting the length of my dress, I turn and take one last glance at the entrance to the room. He’s standing on the other side, selling me out. A silent tear rolls down my cheek, and I turn, making a beeline for the back door.
Gripping the smooth round knob, I turn, and just as I fling the door open, I step forward and bump straight into the chest of a massive man, dressed in all black, wearing a ski mask over his head.
Falling backwards, my tailbone hits the ground and I catch myself with my forearms. Looking up at the hulk of a man in front of me, I notice the way that he smirks and I know in that moment that I am fucked.
Bending down he grabs my left leg and I kick my right leg at him wildly, trying to make him let go. Another man enters the room behind him, dressed similarly.
“We gotta hurry,” he hisses at the other man.
Lifting my foot, I snap my leg forward and dig my heel square into his junk and he releases his grip, letting me go. Rolling over to my stomach, I push up to all fours and try to stand, when I feel a hand wrap around my hair, yanking me backward. I hit the ground again with dull thud.
I open my mouth to scream when a large gloved hand slams down across my mouth as I am yanked backward. I swing my limbs in all directions, trying to make contact with any part of his body. At the very least, I will go down fighting, because if they get me out of this room I’m a dead woman anyway.
As I’m flinging my limbs, I jab my elbow into the ribs of the man holding me and dig. It causes his grip to slip and I bite down on the hand covering my mouth, and let out a scream.
“Ahh you fucking bitch!” he hisses as I lift my leg and slam my heel back into his knee as hard as I can, causing it to bend backward. Running for the door, a set of hands land on my back and suddenly I’m being propelled forward. My head smacks against the wall and everything goes fuzzy. The room starts to spin, and I reach my hand up, touching the spot that’s throbbing in agony. When I bring my hand down, I see the blood under the flashing lights of the room. My ears are ringing loudly, muffling the voices of the men who came for me. Slumping to the ground I hold my head, and press my eyes closed, blinking several times, trying to will the room to slow the fuck down.
Large hands snake around my waist and suddenly I’m being thrown over the shoulder of the taller man. A slamming sound cuts through the room, and then there are voices. More voices, more than the two men who barged into this room. The sounds are muffled and my head is muddied, but suddenly I feel myself being lowered to the ground.
I rub my eyes and the ringing in my ears finally begins to quiet down. As the room comes to focus, I look up at Travis and the two men scuffling. Shifting my eyes from the fight before me and the door, I weigh my options. This is it. I can run. I can get the fuck away. Bracing my hands against the wall, I stand slowly, my knees wobbling beneath me.
Glancing back to the chaos that unfolds, I watch Travis reach into his back pocket, and flip open a butterfly knife. As the larger man punches him in the face, Travis jams the knife into the thigh of the shorter one. Stumbling backward, the man screams out in agony and I decide to make a run for it, but his eyes connect with mine and he charges in my direction.
Running the opposite way, I jump over the couch and slip behind Travis and the bigger man. Travis whips out a gun, and as the click resounds through the room, the man pulls out a knife and jams it into his forearm, making Travis drop the weapon.
The glint of the shiny metal catches my eyes, and it’s calling my name. A beacon of hope in this fucked up situation. Lunging forward, I run for the gun at the same time as the smaller man. I drop my entire body weight on top of the gun as the man throws his body on top of mine.
He pulls my hair roughly and my head snaps back, my scalp stinging and burning beneath his grip. Reaching under my stomach, I find the grip of the gun and wrap my fingers around the grip. My elbow slams backward, hitting the man in the face and as he releases his grip on my hair, I roll over. His hands cover mine as he tugs on the gun, twisting my arms. It happens so fucking fast. Too fast to react.
BANG!
Chapter thirty
Travis
A gunshot echoes through the room and my heart leaps from my chest.
Gripping the chin of the man in front of me, I snap his neck with a swift motion, and shove him to the side as I run toward the two bodies lying limp in the corner, blood pooling from beneath them. Riot and Hannah rush into the room, as the man’s body is shifted to the side, and Spencer slides out from beneath him.
“Spencer!” I shout, and her eyes flick from the dead body to mine. Wild and afraid, her pupils are entirely blown.
A whimper escapes her as she pushes back, sliding to the edge of the room, pressing herself into the corner, gun gripped in her hand, pointed directly at me.
“Get back!” she screams, as her body trembles, her hand shaking, but she never lowers the weapon.
“Spencer, put it down baby. It’s ok, he’s dead,” I say quietly, inching toward her slowly. Clearly in shock, her face twists and distorts with a look of pure confusion.
“I said get back!” she shrieks, tears rolling down her bloodstained cheeks.
“Spencer please,” I drop down to my knees, inching closer, “drop the gun, it’s just me baby. It’s just me.”
“I know! Stay the fuck back! I swear, I’ll do it! I’m not going back to him!”
Confusion settles in, and I have no idea what she’s saying.
“They are dead babygirl, no one is taking you.”
“I heard you,” she whispers, her voice wavering as she wipes her tears with her shoulder, “I fucking heard you.”